Thursday, March 20, 2014

sprequinox: sorrow and love mingling ahead these dark days

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

// from T.S. Eliot, "The Wasteland"

heavy eyelids, heavy heart. heavy news, heavy knowing.
how do you hold it all in Your heart??
reacquainting with Your HURRICANE face.

after grandpa's three days... and his hospitalization since...
how could you let him go hungry? how could you let her go ill?
now he wastes away...

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Let me make it plain: I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage... that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood they’ve shed; that it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened with men.

// Vanya Fyodorovich

I have come to believe that by and large the human family all has the same secrets. They tell what is perhaps the central paradox of our condition, that what we hunger for perhaps more than anything else is to be known in our full humanness.

a slave set free by Love nailed down. an orphan adopted by the High King. learning to let life well up from being all her, in faith. this blog contains some of the mileposts and verbal vomit along the way––streams of semiconsciousnesss––notes filed away from patient teachers and traveling friends.

God must be on my side! an innocent Stranger died me to life, calls me friend. they say love never changes, but they must have lied because Love changed my direction and gave me life when He scribbled in the sand and did not condemn––no He saves me, raises me, poverty to plenty, heals me, clothes me, rags to righteous. He tethers me even as i wander seeking a homeland... finding that it has found me.